Forgiveness
by Ashfae
Summary: Some ruminating on Aoshi's character and his relationship w/Misao.


Forgiveness

  


By Ashfae

* * *

Hours later, my thoughts are still clear, and my body is still numb. 

A distant part of my mind reminds me that I am injured. Not seriously enough to require immediate attention, but injured. It doesn't matter right now. There are other people who need that attention; I can wait. I used to be patient. That has not been true for the past few weeks, but the habit of it is returning to me. 

Sit and breathe. Just breathe. Wait. 

Movement flows around me. Doctors, friends, townspeople who wish to help. We used to be a secret organization; apparently that is no longer the case. They speak to the Oniwabanshuu warriors with respect and gratitude, friendliness. They call Misao "Misao-chan," and then immediately correct themselves and say "Okashira." 

They don't know enough to do more than glance at me. They don't know that the title was mine, before I abandoned it. Okashira...I had intended for that title, and all it represented, to die with me and my companions. Strange, to hear the word spoken with laughter. 

Stranger to hear it referring to Misao. 

The new Oniwabanshuu have not spoken to me, have barely looked at me. They are nervous and unsure of how to treat me. I had thought that it was because of Okina, that they were waiting to see how he would speak to me. If he would speak to me. 

But no. They wait to see how their new Okashira will deal with me. Already she has their respect. I was right; she is a strong woman. Even now she directs those who wish to help- some are rebuilding the destroyed Aoiya, others tending to the wounded. Still others celebrate. Very few seem tired, even though it is nearing dawn. 

Dawn. Tomorrow morning, everything begins...and I still do not know what to do. I kept Himura's promise; I returned. But I don't know what I've returned to. 

I don't know what to say to Misao. 

She was eight when I left...eight. A child, easy to appease, easy to comfort. A child accepts things without any difficulty...someone is gone, and then they are back. Explanations are simple, and forgiveness readily granted. 

How can I possibly explain to this woman she has become? What can I possibly say? 

She has dealt with me yet. When she saw us in the street she ran forward immediately, then stopped. I could see the emotions warring on her face- joy and relief and hesitation, uncertainty. They were only there for a brief moment before she turned her attention to Himura and Sano, calling for people to come and help. 

I can do nothing until she speaks to me. No one seems to see me at all; they all feel that she has the right to speak first. Even though it was Okina I nearly murdered, Okina I wronged so violently, betraying the man I have known since I was a boy. I thought it would be his forgiveness that I needed to beg. Not hers. 

Who is this woman, to be given this right by everyone- even Okina- without question? What does she feel for me, after nine years of seperation? What does she remember, what does she know of me? 

How much pain have I caused her? 

I will be patient. 

Footsteps shuffle closer to me, and the movement around me fades until I am surrounded by a small bubble of silence. Not quite privacy, but neither will there be any interruption. We are being ignored, out of politeness. Respect. 

Misao is standing only a few steps away, considering me. 

I do not know her, or her me. We have not seen each other in almost nine years. She was a child when I left, and I was...younger. Much younger than I am now. I thought that I was old at the end of the Bakumatsu...after seeing the greatest opportunity of my life pass by, seeing time set in place a world in which I and my way of living could not hope to fit. I thought I was old then. 

I know better now. 

I do not know her, but I can see in her traces of the girl I knew. The same features, but more refined. The same body, but taller, lean with whipcord and muscle and just the slightest hints of a woman's curves. The same eyes...exactly the same eyes, large and blue and intense. 

But never this expression- that much is entirely new. There is something ponderous in them, something being weighed. A memory being adapted to fit the image in front of her. 

I wonder, what does she see? 

I cannot read her eyes. Her emotions are very well hidden. That, too, is something new; she was always so open, so passionate about everything. I can't help but wonder if this restraint is something that she learned during my absense, or if it's something I've taught her with my return. 

I taught her to speak and walk, taught her the basics of kenpo and the martial arts...I never imagined that I would teach her this. 

I still can think of nothing to say. No apologies, no excuses...no explanations could ever be enough to undo the harm I've caused. Not just to her or Okina, but to all of the Oniwabanshuu. Everything I used to believe in. Everything that, deep down, I still believe in, even though I had thought I'd forgotten. 

The first move will have to be hers. 

The bubble of silence around us has grown; people are drifting away, back to their own homes and lives, secure in the knowledge that nothing more will attack them tonight. She has been staring at me for a long time. 

She moves, and sits down near me, looking up at the sky. It is still dark, but the air has grown slightly warmer; the night is nearly over. 

I can hear her breathing, can tell every time she shifts position. I have no idea what she's thinking. 

I will be patient. 

"I looked for you." 

I'm not sure what words I was expecting, but those weren't them. 

She shifts position again. "Whenever I could, as soon as I was old enough to sneak away without Jiya catching me. I'd run off for weeks, and then later months at a time, going wherever I could to try and find word of you. I never heard anything." 

She looked for me? 

"It wasn't just you. I missed all of you. I woke up one morning and part of my family was gone, without any word of explanation. All Jiya would ever tell me was that perhaps I would understand when I was older. I'm older now, and I still don't understand. 

"I understand why I couldn't have come with you. I even understand why you didn't say goodbye, though I'm still pissed off at you for doing that. I don't understand why you gave up the way you did. Why you all felt you had to leave." 

If we hadn't, maybe they'd still be alive... 

No. No more of that. I've made what peace I can with that past guilt; I have other things to concentrate on now. She didn't mean to accuse me. She's already moved on. 

"But even that's not really important anymore; I stopped being angry with you a long time ago. I just wanted to find you, to see all of you again. And when I did finally see you, all you had to say to me was that you never wanted to see my face again. So before I say anything else, Aoshi-sama, before I decide anything or do anything, I've got to know if you meant that." 

She's sitting as still as she possibly can, as if acting like a statue will protect her from any words I say...as if being still will keep her supported. That more than anything else tells me how badly I hurt her. When I left her behind so many years ago, it was unkind, but not more than unkind. This was the betrayal. This is what taught her about grief. 

Without knowing it, I invalidated years of her life...years that she spent looking for me, waiting for me. I had no idea. 

I forgot that she would no longer be a child. 

I never imagined that I would still be so important to her. 

"No." 

The word is, in one sense, a lie. At the time, I did mean it- I never wanted to see her, never intended to. I would finish my business with Himura and then fade away; justifying myself to Misao, Okina, anyone... that was never my intention. Why cause her unnecessary pain, by explaining my actions...by telling her how it was my fault that our friends had died? I was too far gone into violence to even consider it: all that mattered was finding Himura, fighting him once more. Misao didn't fit into the equation. 

But in another sense my answer is true. I used to love Misao; I helped raise her, and cherished her as if she were my own sister. I did miss her while I was gone. 

I do not know this Misao, but I want to. Certainly I never wanted to hurt her. 

One word, only partly true...but it seems to be enough for her, for now. She stands up, stretching her arms above her head and gazing for a little while longer at the fading light of the stars. Then she turns back to me, our eyes meeting once more. 

She is smiling. It is the same smile that I remember, given easily, without thought or hesitation. 

"Welcome back, Aoshi-sama. We've all missed you, and everyone really wants to see you. Especially Jiya. He's not angry or anything, just glad that you're back. You are really welcome back, you know, we want you to stay. Though I'm not sure where you're gonna sleep." She looks ruefully over her shoulder at the Aoiya, many rooms of which have been collapsed; it will be a while before everything can be repaired. 

Can it be as easy as that? Can she forgive me as easily as that? It doesn't seem possible. 

But she's taken a step forward, is reaching out a hand towards me, to help me up. I can see her eyes glancing over my wounds critically, can almost hear her planning to get someone to look at them as soon as possible. There is no more hesitation in her actions; she is completely sure of what she is doing. Accepting me back. 

Perhaps not forgiveness, not entirely. But a beginning. 

Probably I could stand on my own. Instead I reach out and take her hand, let her help me to my feet. She smiles at me again, and squeezes my fingers before releasing them and turning to walk towards the somewhat charred entrance to the Aoiya. As I follow, I notice Okina standing in the doorway, watching us. 

I walk through the door just as the last hints of darkness fade from the sky, replaced by the beginnings of morning. Okina smiles at me and grips my hand for a moment. "Welcome home, Aoshi." 

A beginning. It is enough, and more than enough. 

* * *

ashfae@technicaldetails.org   
http://www.ashfae.net 


End file.
